For better or for worse, I have ventured into the world created by Arianna Huffington's, by way of the following post about--you guessed it--the dubious future of cash, and why it's obsolescence might not be such a wretched thing.
Should We Kill Cash?
I'm at some gas station in Hawaii on the last day of a family vacation, and I've just changed a $20 bill into three $5s and five crumply $1s. After double-checking that the cashier didn't miscount, I fold the pale green slips of paper into my wallet. Then, because I'm something of a germaphobe, I take a whiff of my palms. Mistake. Inky rancidity, mixed with locker room and a hint of weed killer. The stink sticks with me for hours, like some viral video you wish you'd never watched.